An Angels Requiem
by SotF
Summary: A choice made, a change, a point of divergance. The power reserved for an angel now stored within the form of one who was once mortal. The bonds of true power laid within the one now bearing the titles of Azrael, now the Angel of Death.
1. Duet of Souls

A lone figure stood atop the clocktower watching the city slowly return to normal.

He was Alexander Lavelle Harris, or was he Azrael the Angel of Death? His mind tried to sort out what had happened to him.

His mind fluttered as his now glistening silver eyes watched the cars pass by on the streets below while the massive wings of black feathers similar to those of either a crow or a raven ruffled in the slight breeze.

The silver bladed scythe with a darkwood handle and runes engraved in gem and saphire balanced him for a moment as the pitch black tunic shifted in the wind.

A unique, three barreled antique pistol hung at his waste, its size several steps above weapons made by mortal hands. The weapon had a true name that was inpronouncable in any language speakable by a truely mortal man or even a lesser fiend or celestial. His scythe was the same, though it had many names in nearly any language all that boiled down to the same two meanings either Finality or Entropy, it was meant to bring the end to any it was used against save its master.

The same master who now had a problem, he was unique before the fool of a chaos mage and that roman idiot decided to pull a prank. Among the angels he was the one who was deemed to be the guardian of death and darkness, the true dark angel as it were. Now his angelic soul had fused with his human soul in a way that the two moronic idiots couldn't have dreamed of and thus released an archangel upon the mortal realms without any limit to his power and yet he was bound by the codes of men and angels where they still applied.

He was both and yet neither, even the abominations that were nephilim never had such a dual nature, one entirely angelic and yet simultaniously human.

The other thing was that he was bored, since the release of his Lords anger millenia ago the world just wasn't a place he found any sort of enjoyment, and had only stepped foot there under orders a handfull of times, once being asked to let his darker side take over as a plague upon the chosen of his Lord.

This world was not the place of dragons and monsters he had enjoyed before, it felt different now, like he was in a world of glass and tissue paper where his slightest mistake could cause a catastropy of epic proportions.

His face, now a near alabastor had a contemplative look as a thought crossed his mind, he was unbound by the laws that seperated the divine powers from the earth, he was free to fight those he wished as he wished. Three pairs of ebony wings rose against the light of the full moon as he stepped forwards, the night where the worlds of the dead and the worlds of the living was still young and the Angel of Death would soar amongst the clouds once and forever more as a nightmare the fiends would learn to fear once more as the treaties that prevented angelic intervention no longer applied to him for as he realized was no longer either man or angel.

The gentle tug of the spirits he had to call as his leather boots slipped off the side of the tower as he launched himself into the air, all six wings of shadow eclipsing the moon for a moment as he took to the skies as he was born to them as memories of the events that led to this flashed before his eyes once more.

* * *

Xander was somewhat annoyed as he glanced at the costume that Buffy and Willow had picked out for him. The slayer had decided that there was no way he would be dressed as just a soldier after she had badgered Willow into picking something that was definately a come as you aren't. And so he had ended up with a few semi-damaged fake wings and other pieces Ethan had ended up with that was damaged and he'd barely managed to make it within the amount he was willing at maximum to spend on a costume.

A few mixed pieces of costumes led to him dressed as what seemed to be a vague mix of a nobleman and a priest with features of a dark angel. The scythe was a piece of black pipe with a piece of foil covered cardboard with stickers to mark the runes along the handle and blade. An afterthought caused him to add one of the older toys he'd had when he was younger that had begun life as a squirtgun and ended up with toilet paper rolls glead onto it to make it look unique and older before sliding it into a pouch on the belt with the grip in the open.

The massive wings had been part of a shipment of water damaged oned and had gotten the entire box for a quarter and glued the intact halves of the pairs togather to look right on the long sleaveless coat he wore that was also from the damaged goods stuff Ethan had gotten.

The kids he'd gotten stuck with were more agravating than usual and had decided to scatter the moment one of the youngest had slowed down.

Thats when the chaos began as raw power surged through the streets like a hurricane, centering on this new supernatural being that had come into existance. A human and an angelic soul could not exist in the same body, the very natures of the two species made them incompatible, but chaos found a way and basically discovered that you can fit a square peg through a round hole if you break out a sledgehammer and gave it a few wacks.

The street seemed to sink under deep shadows that spread from the entity that was comming into being as powers celestial and infernal felt the raw power of one of the most powerful of the angels fuse with the powers of a mortal man.

The two weapons powered by the primal forces of the universe Life and Death, or rather the sole power that encompasses both and all things. Entropy was given form through the raw powers of chaos colliding with countless eons of order in an annihalation effect much like a mix of matter and anti-matter. Power and energy to fuel this new creation, the first truely unique entity to walk the earth since Genesis containing the power that had been meant to be the last rider of this entities Lord and Master.

The being rose from the crouch he was in, ravens wings spreading wide for a mere moment before folding around him and seeming to mold themselves in ways that a mortal creatures couldn't to form what appeared to be a layer of leather with the pattern of feathers and his hair, now a metalic silver swirled from a breeze he seemed to generate himself as his formerly brown eyes opened in a stream of light made of seemingly gold and silver light.

"Interesting," he stated as memories of a conversation with one of the higher ups, one who actually liked popping up on the planet.

Metatron had mentioned with a laugh that he would be goind on an unexpected trip.

"Just plain interesting," he continued before breaking into a madening laugh that resounded from the houses and for miles around, "And what kind of idiot would do this sort of thing?"

And with that, the Angel of Death seemed to explode into a sphere of darkness that seeped everywhere before fading into the night.

* * *

Cordelia was in full panic mode, lady useless and Angel were cornered with her as a bunch of monsters were attempting to force their way past Spike.

Thats when mad laughter began to fill the room and palpable POWER seemed to rush in with an encircling black mist that deepened and expanded to flood the room as thousands of pairs of glowing silver and gold eyes seemed to stare at the inhabitants of the room.

Spike felt whatever a vampire has flowing in their veins turn to ice.

"Hello William," the voice behind the laughter whispered, the sound coming from everywhere and nowhere, "So this is where the rat hides, even more pathetic than your last."

"Who's there?" the vampire stammered as the minidemons and his minions scattered, the minions suddenly bursting into a cloud of ash that glittered in the light of the eyes.

"Your death," came the response as a silver haired and black clad figure seemed to slowly materialize from the seeming inky mist, wings suddenly flairing wide to their full fifty foot span, "Has come for you William."

The vampire almost had a heart attack as he staggered backwards from the spectre of true and final death stood before him, pale skin revealed only by the light of the eyes and the now shining emerald green of his scythes runes.

"No, I will not use my scythe upon you damned one," the archangel in the flesh whispered in an almost seductive tone, "Nor will my gun be tarnished by a need to remove you from this world."

He paused only an inch away from the vampires face, their breath touching skin for a mere instant before the angel reared up, "Feather Storm!"

Several of the celestials feathers seemed to detach from him and form a whirling maelstrom around him before he motioned with his hand and sent feathers sharper than any blade should be shooting forwards to impale the creature for a mere instant before Spike as well was turned to dust as the angel took his leave to walk the streets for a few more minutes before the spell would end.

* * *

**AN:** Well, this is the intro for an idea of mine, there will be crossovers later, but this is meant for Halloween 


	2. London Blues

"Spirits of Destruction," he stated in a calm voice, "Rise and strike!"

The angelic entity hovered a half dozen yards off the pavement as spiraling tendrils of dark energy with razor sharp tips cascaded towards the two combatants that had distracted his search.

The six winged angel known as Alexander or Azrael had come to find something to exchange for a less destructive sidearm. One of his friends was a weaponsmith of extreme talent and had studied under Hephestus Vulcan at one time centuries ago before the Greek had retired. A simple book that had found its way into mortal hands in England of all places, and then there were the two semi-mortal idiots in a street brawl.

The spiraling shadows passed without a trace through anything unliving, but th trees that lined the street and the gardens were in pieces that rained haphazardly to the pavement as the fight before him stopped out of sheer shock at the angel joining the fight between a paladin and nosferatu while the shadow spirits evaporated, their orders finished.

Black boots softly touched the pavement as the edge of the scythes hilt brushed up against a freshly fallen branch that wilted and decayed in seconds of the touch, its death, begun by being ripped from its trunk, was accelerated to leave only dust behind as shadows seemed to drape themselves all through the streets to make the atmosphere complete.

The swaying of the loose leather of his tunic in the calm breeze around him, silvery buckles and buttons, a large and strange weapon dangling at his hip in a loop on his belt. The temporary replacement for his original weapon, one that had the potential to cause a repeat of the loss of Atlantis with one fully capable of causing his own brand of havoc without risking everything in the area with each shot. The Cerberus Arms: Model-0.

His obsidian wings spread wide behind him, glistening with reflections from the streetlights and stars. The pair of leather gauntlets that covered his forearms to the elbow with an intricate patern of inlayed silver and gold. The long, sleaveless coat that draped to his ankles with no indication of exactly where the almost ethereal ravens wings extended from.

Pale nearly white skin and jet black hair, an almost taunting smirk across his lips as he raised his head slightly to look at the two. A silver band tying his hair back as a pair of reflective sunglasses, seemingly to small to be of any good sat low on his nose. A pair of shining silver and gold eyes that were lit brightly in a way that was no eyeshine.

"Nice night," he whispered in a tone between teasing and taunting, "Isn't it?**  
**

* * *

Halloween had come and gone. 

Xander refused to tell his friends what had happened to him, he was still struggling with figuring out what he was, where Alexander ended and where Azrael began.

He was lucky in some ways, the ability to regain his human form when he desired it was a blessing. What he would have done without that gift was something he shuddered to think about.

The clock tower that overlooked the highschool square had become his sanctuary and he'd added some of the angelic magics he'd gained to make a comfortable hideaway there for when he needed it. A sanctum for angels hidden above the very mouth of hell itself.

The reborn Angel of Death surveyed the town he viewed as his domain with a quiet and unblinking stare as he leaned against the scythe of death. He had left his pistol in his sanctuary due to its volatile nature as a weapon of the apocalypse, and even there the weapon was the last of the four, containing all the powers that the others either wouldn't or couldn't contain.

His eyes shining bright through the shadows he drew to him as he sank into them to go visit an old friend and retrieve something that would be most useful for one such as he.

* * *

Slipping slowly from the shadows into the dark room lit only by a pool of magma and the flickering lights of the forges and tools of the craftsman. 

A massive figure was present in a soft recliner of unusual proportions.

"It's been a while Kerberos," he stated with a slight smile at his friend.

"Yes, old friend," the figure said with a chuckle, a trio of dog collars visible. One on the neck and the others on his forearms, "Since Hephestus quit working and your boss sealed away my former boss."

"When did you learn to take human form?" the angel asked as he was waved to a seat.

"When Heph decided I needed it to learn or he'd never get a vacation," came the chuckling reply, "And around when his wife left him for Ares perminantly."

* * *

Sir Integra Van Helsing was speechless, she had never seen such a thing as had happened. Walter was barely keeping himself from choking while keeping his laughter in check. 

They'd found Alucard, Paladin Father Alexander Anderson, and a six black winged entity passed out drunk at the entrance to the manor.

* * *

**Review Responses**

**Bobboky:** Graci

**angelkitty77:** Here is some more for you

**Louvil:** Thanks

**NiereG:** Here goes the next part of this, intro of Helsing into the mix

**tdk99992000:** thanks

**The Sithspawn:** This started out as more of an idea that I decided to do for Halloween, and then decided to continue it here as now this keeps giving me ideas. I am still working on a lot of my other fics still.


	3. Death Dawning

He was dreaming, memories of a time long past. During the first time Azrael fought in anger, the time he earned his station as the Angel of Death.

Thousands came pouring through the breach while Raphael and Gabriel fought to keep the gate. Michael was outside amidst a sortie with the devils and their demon slaves.

The fallen angels sacrificing their loyalty and what they had been made for in the hopes of power beyond their station. The Devils made him sick due to their trechery.

He was alone among those who had come, his anger and hatred visible on his pale face with only a single pair of wings upon his back as he held a simple blade that had come from one of his brothers who fell with the wall when a massive brute of a devil sent him flying through the smoke filled air.

Thousands charged throught he damaged golden walls as he prepared to fight, prepared to die.

And then the world seemed to slow as they came into range of his weapon and he lashed out at the slavering hordes before him and all went white as they were driven back, power from his lord and master flooding through him and his weapon, changing him, remaking him.

Six wings against the tormented sky and a scythe that seemed to be made entirely of obsidian and devoured the light and power of his hated foes with a burst of dark power as the spirits of the fallen came to answer his cry with a scream and wave of destruction that tore through the monsters and abominations before him like a sword through tissue paper with a deafening crack like a sonic boom that sent bodies into the air and shattered them to join the dust and debris flying already throught the ash laden air before it to was blasted outwards and away.

It was a nexus point in history, a point where the powers and faith of the few change the course of time and fate itself.

"Dark Dragon Apocalypse," he roared in anger at the countless enemies arrayed before him as he charged past the breeched wall, "Descend and Destroy!"

And the world was ripped apart in the fury of sheer power and destruction by a shadowy form of an immense dragon that seared its image into the memories and very souls of everything present**  
**

* * *

Xander shuddered slightly as he began to awake from the dreams of the war in the heavens when the true power of the angelic part of his soul was released to its fullest, the only time the monster that gave him the powers beyond a normal angel was released into the world.

Consiousness was returning slowly as he struggled through a massive headache while his celestial powers cleansed his system, eliminating any damage he could have done to himself if the taste of booze in his mouth was any manner of figuring it out.

He forced his mind to the present as he slowly opened his eyes while testing his wings slowly before fusing them around him into the feather patterned armor he occasionally used with a slight groan.

A moment of focus and he dissolved into shadows for a mere instant before reforming in a standing position and slowly opened his glowing eyes as a single yawn passed his lips.

His mind sensed the auras of two nosferatu, several humans, and some sort of genetically modified being with a human base that he couldn't quite place the exact changes to that being.

A few strands of jet black hair hung before his pale face as he smiled slightly and stretched his back with an audible popping sound and a slight moan of relief of the cramps from sleeping as he had on the floor.

His vision came completely into focus on a woman standing before him in a suit, probably made specifically for her. Pale blonde hair and glasses and an all around aristocratic look to her features as memories came back to him for an instant about the night of carousing after breaking up a fight between one of the Nosferatu and a priest of some sort**  
**

* * *

Elsewhere a dark figure smiled slightly as the human known as Ford planned to betray the slayer in exchange for becomming a vampire. 

A pair of black, leathery wings as it descended before the foolish mortal with glowing eyes of the shade of magma.

If an angel was on the mortal plane, then a Devil would be able to interfere as well..**  
**

* * *

**AN:** A simple thing first, in this Devils are fallen Angels while Demons are other species of creatures.

* * *

**Bobboky:** Graci

**Dracowar:** Hellsing is one of them, others will probably come into it eventually

**Ant Crown:** Well, for the moment Giles (And for that matter, the Scoobies) has no idea that Xander has become what he has.

**angelkitty77:** I figure Walter at least would get a kick out of someone showing up and getting Alucard and Anderson drunk would be a funny situation. Integra will probably be annoyed for a while though.

**TTrunks:** Yep, and with them it would take quite a bit to put them under


	4. Interlude: Descent of Apocalypse

**AN:** This is a simple continuation of the fight from the beginning of the Death Dawning chapter of this fic.

* * *

The rage of Apocalypse rained from the sky as destruction given corporeal form though the ancient leviathan was seemingly composed of mists and shadows when attacked. Little more than a trick of the light that could strike worst than any viper in existance. The eternal essences of its domains empowering the monsterous dragon as the angelic powers of the reborn archangel called his servant into reality as the armies of Lucifer the highest ranking of the devils and a former archangel in his own right.

Shimmering scales that shifted and distorted by the instant in ways that would lead those who stared to long, hard, or close into a descent to true madness. Shadows poured from within the breeched defenses as the unleashed behemoth spread chaos and destruction through the ranks of its enemies with a vengance unheard of by any on either side.

One of the fallen was reduced to a spray of ichor as a claw thirty times its size batted the fallen angel as Apocalypse lashed out, destroying thousands with broad swipes of its everchanging tail.

Burning gold eyes surveyed the battlefield as even the bravest friends and foes backed away from this ancient monster that joined the fray at the behest of this angel turned archangel while several broke and fled at the sheer sight of the bloodthirsty leviathan before them as it unleashed an earth shattering roar before charging once more**  
**

* * *

Azrael charged through the fight, aiming for the devil leading the troops before him. His new powers flooding through his system like liquid flame and leaving him no doubt in which demons had been forced into this and which had given themselves to the devils.

He knew that demons as an entirety were impossible to judge as a group because they had some free will and no higher purpose such as that of his kin's to serve their lord and master.

The ebony blade slew countless lesser demons as the now six winged figure walked slowly through the weapon made of the essence of entropy was lethal to all but its bearer as even the slightest cut of an enemy left the creature withering and dissolving to ash.

The charging angelic force behind him, rallied by his burst of power when the wall of heaven was breeched roared in anger as they crashed into the swarms of demons and devils behind him in a maelstrom of battle that continued high into the sky as flier dueled on the wing.

His closest friend, a being that would normally guard Hades had joined him in the battle. The three headed dog larger than an elephant crashed past him, each head and paw on a different foe.

A flash of crimson light and one of his brothers, Raphael, blasted past with a coiled whip spiraling around him as he fought against six devils and was holding his ground. The crimson winged angel fought with a calm ease that was a seeming opposed style of sorts to Michael, their eldest brother, practices. A calm dance versus a berzerk fury, two opposite approaches to the same problem that still reach the same goals.

A massive firebird swooped past, encircling Raphael with a protective wall of white flame that burned a seeming mile into the air as embers rained around like fireflies if it were but a day of peace and not bloodshed.

Gabriels silvery form visible as flashes high above as the messenger fired vollys of glistening arrows. The angels divinely granted arrows flew straight and true to bring the deaths of enemies as the archangel danced between combatants between shots.

The new angel of death unleashed another wave of destruction before him as countless more enemies joined the fray.

He saw the face of former and currents friends and allies among the fighting and fallen as he advanced, ones he had trusted and some he hadn't, traitor and loyal, all were equal after they shed their mortal coil, but the angelic guardian of deaths very being choked back tears as he advanced through seemingly endless hordes of enemies with only his newfound power keeping him intact and moving forwards.

And then he'd broken through the fetid and blood scented crush of the battle into the clearing he sought, the one he hoped held one that when slain would cause the opposition to collapse.

Six fair wings like those of a dove that matched his own deep black ravens wings and icy cold blue eyes pierced the murk of the raging battle. Almost fireblackened skin covered this familiar form to him as metallic silver hair dangled in a braid behind the hulking figures back between the wing pairs. He was tall and built large and powerful while carrying a massive axe that seemed a size or two to large for his own mass.

"I've found you traitor!" he snarled in rage at the brazen devil before him as he braced his new scythe for battle against one he knew so well, "I've found you Azazel!"

"I've been waiting for you," the devil laughed in return, "Brother..."

* * *

**Riye Link Reue:** Here's an interlude for you

**Louvil:** I'm trying to keep it going with a plotline without simply going SuperXan with it which is difficult to write a lot of while keeping the pacing and descriptive part of it. I hope this keeps attention.

**Bobboky:** Thanks


	5. Angels and Devils

Madness, it was a part of him through the spirit bonded to his very being, now linked to the two souls fused into one entity. Apocalypse, the dark dragon of destruction, was something laying there beneath his conscious thought, a weapon of last resort, one beyond even that of the Armageddon Weapon he was given to guard and wield in his Lords name. The dragon of chaos was an unstable being that answered only his own call, and even then it bordered on impossible to contain or controll when released, with only its contempt for Devils as a thing to reign its destructive urges in.

Even then, the one time he'd summoned the shadow spirit, Azrael had been forced to wound the great beast before it would return from whence it came. That act had changed his Scythe, changing the black blade to silver with the markings remaining behind as if inlayed with shadesteel.

Now he wondered if that madness was changing him as he stared at the lady before him with an odd smile as his mind ran over the previous nights actions.

The sheer quantity of various drinks of varying potency was almost mindboggling as he and his two drinking buddies spent the night going from one bar to another after his use of the scythe on the decorative flora on the street the battle between his two companions had taken place. Four of the bars they'd visited were no longer fit for use, one due to a dart game between Anderson and Alucard, the second involved a billiards game with a drinking game and a minor skirmish with some football hooligans to complete the set, though the last one did get them the thanks of the police due to the record of one of those deranged fans that had recieved a bayonet to the wrist before being kindly asked to leave and never return to that particular pub.

He was seriously grateful for the fact that he still had his angelic healing due to some of what had happened, including a way to eliminate the hangover, but the taste in his mouth was something else and it refused to go away.

Slowly cracking his neck he brought his attention back to the now and more specifically to the aristocrat before him. If he'd still been a mere mortal, or even still just an angel, the stare the lady had might have worked to make him feel somewhat repentant. Ah the power of being a jaded whatever the heck he was now.

He smiled slightly, biting back a chuckle as he declared with a cheerful voice, "Good morning!"

Alexander the Azrael had timed the release of his wings perfectly as they spread outwards and casually circling forwards to point towards each other with a total shape similar to that of a heart if they'd continued to a point of meeting.

The startled expression of the mortal made it all worthwhile.

And it was then that he felt an oddly familiar sensation, another old drinking buddy of his was active in the world, well, he;d just have to visit Puck to see how the trickster was doing in New York, but the brief flare of Fey energy was barely enough to attract his attention and locate a city.

Ah, well, it would be more fun to track the guy down that way, although he wouldn't be able to do it the quick way before a conscientious cough brought his attention once more back to the now and here rather that wondering about New York City.

"Ah, yes," he said with a slight bow and a widened smile, "Allow me to introduce myself, I am Azrael!"

The startled look of the two mortal humans was almost enough to even make the true angel of death start laughing.

* * *

The entity formerly known as Ford smiled slightly as it rose to its knees, the spirit within consuming the soul of the mortal and imbuing the human shell with its own power and might as the devil once known as Azazel tested the limits, a pair of milky white wings with spatters of crimson blood spread wide, followed by two more pairs.

Razor sharp claws protruded from the flesh of the fingers as the skin darkened to a charred black as his hair distorted to a silver color and the illuminated eyes the color of blood surveyed the area before him as the shredded shirt fell to the ground and the boots torn off to reveal talons on the feet, elongated fangs graved his mouth, though different from that of a vampire.

This was no demon that had come, it was a archdevil in mortal flesh, a true abomination the likes of which had been absent from the earth since before the dawn of mankind. The devil stood before the setting sun with a truely evil grin on his face. 


	6. Devils Pathways

The adamant blade named Evrae, container of the sealed guardian wyrm of Atlantis, rested sealed within a peculiar vault of a particular law office in Los Angeles. The dark trinity of greater daemons called the Wolf, the Ram, and the Hart held the weapon that belonged to the greatest devil warrior, the one who now entered the building in his new form, or rather the reformed devil body made by replacing the damaged portions of Azazels soul ,caused by the Scythe of Entropy in the previous battles with the Archangel, with the eviscerated soul of a mortal man who atempted to gain respite from death by make a literal deal with a devil.

Eyes glowing the glistening crimson of the fluid of life surveyed the entrance as Azazel reborn walked calmly though the structure, following th call of the blade he wielded before his brother, his twin, had dueled him above the island city of the ancients, last descendants of the heroes of old that were part of the Nephelim race, the second of the two times the pair had battled.

The first fight had ended in a draw between them, but the power of Apocalypse had turned the tide in the favor of the valiant Azrael, and the devil had searched for a power to match the monsterous dragon that his twin could call forth. He'd found it in the hands of the Atlanteans, the guardian dragon that protected their city by the gifts of his former lord and master.

It took nearly a century of work, but he bound the beast to his will and his demonic forces flooded the city, turning the City of Wonders into his own dark domain. As he bound the ancient monsters will to his own twisted desires by linking the mythic heart of atlantis to his damaged blade.

The Archangels had led the assault on the fallen city with Michael and Gabriel fighting at the walls, Raphael with his whip dealing death to the demonic allies en masse while he awaited his own confrontation with his brother.

It was maddening that he could see the bonds of control his brother still lived under, even with the seals on their eternal forms being sundered by fusion with a human soul, his brother still followed the edicts of his Lord, a Lord that Azazel had discarded to seek his own power and fell to become the devil that he had remained since, though his true form had once been damaged.

His brother had always had something akin to a pack mentality, the devil mused, the angel would serve his lord with everything he was. It was that very loyalty that had shattered the archangel once, when the angel of death was forced to decide between two loyalties: his brother or his lord.

It would have broken the devil that his only true brother of flesh and blood had sided against him if his heart hadn't darkened with his fall from angel to devil.

He smiled slightly as he followed the power flows between him and the weapon bonded to his spirit, his soul while those who worked at the accursed place scattered out of the path of the biggest fish in the building.

Doors opened before him as the frightened beings scattered, not wanting to bother the creature as it reached the vault and stepped within, reaching out with a clawed hand to grasp the hilt of the mythic weapon and pull forth the weapon that was the equal of the Scythe of Entropy.

The archdevil vanished into a cloud of darkness, an ability he shared with only his brother, he still had a few things to do in order to properly "greet" his brother atop the mouth of hell**  
**

* * *

Kerberos smiled at the weapon he'd constructed for his friend, the Model-0 was something that was incomplete, a partial prototype with the things now finished would make it whole. The weapon would bear the spirits of two of his own fallen friends, those who had been forced into battles by the darkened fates that tricked their own relatives into war by manipulating prophecy.

The same trio that had been reduced to a pair by his own actions after the fall of those who where his brothers by honor that would now live again in service to the power of the Creators chosen Angel. The raw power of the twin spirits of Fenris and Garm would create a weapon on Par with the scythe, though without the potential for raw, unfettered destruction that any of the Armageddon weapons could unleash with even the slightest of hesitation or distraction in their use.

The wolf and the dog would howl once more when brought forth in a way similar to how Apocalypse could be summoned, and it would be worth it to see those he viewed as family once more**  
**

* * *

**AN:** Daemons and Greater Daemons are powerful demons, they aren't anywhere near Devil or angel power, but they are the pinacle of demonic power and not to be sneezed at. Three powers working togather is a way to amplify the power and so I mentioned two different ones in this. Sorry, but no Azrael in this chapter.

* * *

**mchael22:** Review either place you want, I'm updating on both.

**Bobboky:** Thanks


	7. Lucifers Musings

Serenity, that is what he remembered of the time, the time before all of the darkness, before the fall and the collapse of the world. The act of rebellion by a jealous Archangel had changed verything about the way reality worked. 

The entity sat in an almost bemused silence as it watched the interlinked worlds caused by that Nexus in history.

The fate once guided by a cruel mastermind, now wondering about its former kingdom, was in flux as one of its pupils had taken control of what the being had once claimed for his own. Reduced to little more than a tempting spirit by a trecherous devil that bore the power of birth within him.

He was one of the first beings to be created, the bringer of light, Lucifer Eosphorus the angel of first light. And then the defeated twin of the dark angel that bore the title of Death made manifest lashed out after Azazels glory had been stripped from him in the final battle of Atlantis and struck the morningstar in the back, a trecherous blow beyond even what his own traitorous heart could comprehend.

And thus the devil spirit was adrift, broken and battered and his plans of domination were wrent asunder after the first act. The acts of the Garden where new when it occurred, the fall of Atlantis being the last act of the old world, the end of the age of demons upon the Earth before the weapon wielded by Azrael was unleashed in its full potential against another of the four brought to bear by Azazel.

The former lightbringer contemplated what had happened since then, Janus the chaos bringer had reshuffled the deck by transforming Azrael into a being the likes of which had never been seen before, into something that even the powerful Nephilim could only hint at with their linked but incompatible essences be the being one. Nephilim were powers to behold, the greatest of villains or heroes, their destiny the first to truely be made by choice.

They had interested him, the existance of the Nephilim was a direct result of his abandonment of the Creators commands. The fall and the resulting conflict brought both devils and angels into contact with the inhabitants of the world now known as Earth through the descendants of Cain the Firstborn, the one bonded now with another branded with the name of traitor.

He mused to himself that his own rebellion was something ill advised and was something that was a spur of the moment bid for freedom, but beings like Azazel were different. Azazel was a monster, even he could admit that, a being that enjoyed destroying his opponent mentally and spiritually before destroying the body when the monster hated someone, and the arch devil truely hated his brother in a twisted irony.

Azazel was not as sly as he thought though, the monsterous devil had once been a warrior angel, assigned for combat but never really mastered the more diplomatic aproaches, or even the sneaky ones, he preferred to strike with a frontal assault when he could, though he would take a chance to stab others in the back if he saw an opportunity to do so that benefited him, much as the devil had when he'd destroyed Lucifers own form to leave him as but a spirit.

Evrae, his former spirit had abondoned him when he'd fallen, choosing to guard the Bastion of Atlantis while Garuda the Phoenix had allied itself with Raphael when Azazel had fallen. Azazels domination of Evrae was the very thing that allowed the monster to destroy his still pristine form with the weapon that bound his spirit companion that also touched the edge that had sampled the blood of Apocalypse.

And thus he'd been trapped as he was, a spirit without a body, but able to take the forms of the dead since a tiny fragment of the blood of the scythes spirit had entered his form before his body was destroyed as well as an action that had gained him some hope of reclaiming his former body, the death and binding of the spirit of Raphael.

A hidden orb, the very thing that was used as the prototype for the mortal creations called an Orb of Thesula, held the archangels soul. It was one of his prizes, something that still made the incorporeal entity smile on occasion, Azazel had managed the vistory, but Lucifer Eosphorus had claimed the prize by stealing the soul before the monster could do anything to the soul of the archangel that a small portion of his mind still referred to as a friend, the portion that the word still held meaning in.

Now that orb held a new purpose as a new plan rose in his mind, his original plan would have netted him is body back, but this new one had a different promise.

Until Janus' power fused human and angel togather the hope of redemption was lost, an angelic or devil soul could only fall and then they were lost forever while mortal souls could find redemption during their life and sometimes beyond even that. The thoughts running through the immortal devil-spirit were different now as he considered if it were posible to trade the soul of an Archangel for the chance to be remade as Azrael had, to be remade as the angel who had once been but the angel of loyalty had been.

It would be worth it, a way to deal with the monster who had destroyed all the power he had gained, to be free, free as he now understood it rather than as he had before his own rebellion.

His original plan involved utilizing some of his own pawns to dupe the slayer into upsetting the balance with the Armageddon Weapon that Azazel had used and he'd stolen and hidden after the death of Raphael. That use would be enough to allow him to utilize the energies to retake his former body and powers, to become more than a tempting spirit.

But for now he remained as he was, he was Lucifer Eosphorus the Morning Star, he was the Lightbringer, and he was also the one known now as the First Evil. And even the traitor devil Azazel would soon learn that it was unwise to backstab a viper.

* * *

The archdevil in question had returned to the hellmouth, reveling in the twisted energies from a dimension humans would think it to be hell. 

Azazel had a goal this time, he'd found the mad vampiress Drusilla, one who had nearly starved due to the effect of he own injuries and illness mixed with the loss of her paramour on All Hallows Eve. The beginning of a unique situation that allowed the physical presence of ne of his caliber to enter the mortal world. Normally, such a thing would be beneath his notice, but a seer, even a mad one was a useful object and a toy for his amusement if nothing else, and she would put up no struggle in the battle for submission, the only Demons close to an angel or devils power were the Old Ones, and even they were trumped by an Archangel or Archdemon or even some of the gods and goddesses that served the Creator in their own way.

The devil stepped from his perch among the wooden rafters of the warehouse the broken Vampire had hidden herself in.

A brief musing on the several species that were collectively referred to as Vampires crossed his mind.

The largest population was the demonic breed, or in other terms Homo Sapien Vampirus Aurielus. It was one of the weaker breeds to be sure, their ability to spread like rats if left unchecked combined with a lack of the spark of creativity was their seeming hallmark with a few scattered exceptions. This was exemplified in the Turok Han subspecies that barely qualify as more than idiotic brutes that were best used as simple shocktroopers.

Then there were the Homo Sapien Corvenus Lamia, although they tended to congregate in but a few areas due to their innate love of internal secrecy and their war with the mutated therianthrope strand in the other Corvenus line. They had little advantage over the Aurielian vampires except they could think and plan as well as the choices in maintaining their secrecy.

The other major group was the Homo Sapian Nosferatu and the Homo Sapien Nosferatu Rex. The latter had only come through a magically and scientifically forced mutation of the base strand by an Abraham Van Hellsing to create a vampire of strength equal to even the Greater Daemons and some of the lesser dieties. That was something that truely shocked him as well as reinforced his belief that humanity was little more than a plague that should be rectified.

There were a scattered few other species that were grouped with the vampires, one notable one from the east, but they were little more than animals for the most part and would be put down violently by just about every group including all of the other Vampire species.

Vampires of the Aurielus line were interesting in that they were not the same spirit that would become during the turning unless something special happened, and in this case that had happened in Angelus' tormenting of the young girl who had desired to take her vows as a nun, that had triggered the first part of the effect, unsealing that which was sealed, the last sister of a trinity, the third fate, the one the Canis trinity had laid low for forcing others to falsely believe that one of their number was corrupt. The spirit creature now named Edith was a mix of the lost oracle and the blood demon while the fractured, but still human soul remained in the corporeal body with the oracle part of the spirit protecting the soul of its host and the demonic portion attempting to remove it. That was the part that made the link powerful, the mortal powers of the oracles was limited in its vision in what could be seen, but with the demonic power added, it became a much more clear vision of what was wanted if the seer was properly guided on the path.

The raw powers that he personally had gained, more specifically the minor talents in precognition would enable him to control her powers and bind them to his service. It would be his edge against the twin he hated and desired the death of.

* * *

Stunned silence filled the room as the female british knight stood in shock at the name of the visitor who had managed what seemed impossible. Integra found she couldn't move as she watched the angel shrug and start to walk out of the room. 

The existance of at least one angel who had managed to materialize a cup of coffee, or at least she hoped it was just coffee, before leaning against the wall. A black mug with the simple phrase, _Don't Screw Up, Angels Are Watching!_

It would have been absurd if it weren't for the fact that she was pretty damn sure of her sanity at the moment and with a scythe that made her realize that the title that was linked in myth to the name Azrael that made the title omething more solid then when the same moniker had been given to Walter all those years ago. 

Her thinking paused for a moment as she realized that if he could get Alucard and Anderson to go drinking instead of causing an international incident, it was a good thing.

Her train of thought was interrupted for a moment as Xander slipped outside.

And then the thought hit her that she had no idea what the three had been up to, and especially with how wasted the three had been, it could not be a good thing. And that's when the panic set in.

* * *

**AN:** This chapter was hard due to the metaphysics of it and more explainations of various things tied into this as well. I don't really have much with Xan for the moment because I'm trying to set the pieces of the game up for later by introducing the characters that tie into the plot.

* * *

**Mchael22:** Well, I was working on ideas and needed to space things out slightly and put up what I had. 

**Firehedgehog:** Here you go

* * *


	8. Memoirs of a Duel

All seemed silent for a mere moment in time, a flash, an instant, a second. To those about to duel amidst the flames of war it was a lifetime for mortal men, though these two were far from mortal.

Azrael held a firm and steady grip on his scythe, this instinctive knowledge of its use that he'd gained from it was similar to what had been gained from his previous, although lesser, weapon before his assention to Archangel. The ebony scythe was ready and his touch making it vibrate with some sort of ingrained eagerness to destroy the traitor he stood before as a testament to the lesser blade now contained within it due to his transformation.

Azazel stood with a sadistic smirk as he held the adamant blade in a two handed grip while his milk white featers rippled around them. His former power and title gone, replaced with his new one. the Archdevil of Slaughter stood ready to fight his brother.

The twins both moved to strike at the same moment, flashes and sparks exploded in a resounding shriek as blade met blade.

The smirk didn't lift from the devils face as opposed to the stony face of the angel as they tested their strength for a moment before Azrael lashed out with the end of the nearly straight snath without the handles of the normal versions of the weapon or its farming versions, nailing the Azazel in the stomach, just below the ribs only to barely miss having a wing taken off by his foes greatsword.

Bother combatants backed off and circled each trying to find some purchase in their next attack, black boots moving swiftly through the rough terrain that had detered normal combat from taking place, both waiting for the opportunity.

Azrael faked a stumble and parried a strike a fraction of a second later with the Scythe of Entropy and his own power while his traitorous brother did the same with the Adamant Blade. The energy wave went skywards from the collision, bringing a startled calm to the battlefield as two titans fought with abandon to the state of the rest of the battle.

"So you think you can fight me on yourr own," Azazel whispered as their power tore through the air like a hurricane, carrying anything lighter than a pebble or small stone with it to scatter the pieces in all directions, "Brother dear?"

They broke apart, now twin powers of energy that cascaded through the ranks of stunned onlookers.

"Even if I can't," came the reply from the Archangel, "I'll still die loyal to the one who made us!"

The devil laughed, a low and haunting melody that seemed to carry a cold deeper then the coldest of winters, "You are, or at least you were, the Angel of Loyalty, you can't turn on anyone!"

"I was loyalty," came the quick response as a savage grin crossed the angels face as he gathered his power, "To some extent, I still am, but my powers are greater than that, and you forget who turned on who, you foreswore your oaths and your very maker in turning traitor!"

The laugh ended, but the grin turned to a cruel smile, "And your loyalty to your own twin would be what I ask you about, do you follow your family or your Master?"

"Why did you turn from Him?" the angel asked as he countered a sudden assault, both angel and devil taking to the air as they circled once more, "Why did you betray us all?"

"I couldn't stand taking orders from someone who refused us our freedom," came a snarled reply as both struck out once more in a chain of violent crashes and explosions of metal meeting metal.

"He is our maker, your own actions prove that there is freedom, even though your choices led to corruption," Azrael roared back, "Spirits of Destruction! Rise and Strike!"

Half shapen forms of shadows that seemed to be carved of the very stuff of the night sky rose with savagery with an edge sharper than that of a razor lashed out from his aura forcing the devil into an acrobatic retreat that would stun even a hummingbird before the spirits retreated to their wielders form.

"Neat trick," the devil spat, "Do you have any more?"

"Plenty!" the angel snarled in retort, "Feather Storm!"

The stream of feathers were barely deflected by the sword the devil wielded though a handfull slipped through.

Azazel screamed in pain as the few that got through dissolved after impact, leaving expanding stains of vibrant crimson blood across the formerly pure white wings. The devils body shook in rage and fear with an edge of panic as he slowly sank to the ground on the damaged apendages before evacuating to the shadows to tend his wounds with a final shout.

"Until next time," the tone came a strange mix of shriek of pain and sneer, "Brother!"

With the fall of their leader, the demons and devils fell back from the fight, vanishing in various ways while Azrael collapsed to the ground in exhaustion.

The battle had been won**  
**

* * *

Azazel grimaced slightly at the memory as he continued his preperations for a proper welcoming for his brother. Drusilla had been easily controlled, he'd used a small portion of his own energy to heal her and bind the vampiric seer to his will while forcefully integrating Edith with Drusilla, leaving his own mark upon her neck at the collar.

He had other plans and had sent some of the other demons to begin working on bringing the pieces of one of the few devils not banished from the world, that while merely a normal devil, would be useful to him in what was to come.

The former angel of judgement, the onetime bearer of the Book, had fallen in anger at the option of redemption to the damned, as a devil that fell after the war, he wasn't bound by the rules as the others were and are, but also maintained a version of his powers but only through a mirror darkly.

The slight surge of power he'd felt earlier was from one of his friends associates, one of Oberons brood. This was proving to be a challenge, but he would win, he would have his revenge.

And he would wiat for his forces to complete the plan Spike and Drusilla had come up with to purge part of the mortal world, but he'd harness the power of the destroyed souls to free a force that could face an archangel if it were required**  
**

* * *

**AN:** More history, the opening of this takes off where the interlude leaves off. I've somewhat derailed my train of thought on how to handle Azraels current situation, but I have the basics and am trying to make it fit with the rest of the story.

* * *

**mchael22: **For Lucifer, he's a tricky one to place, redemption is but one of many paths he could go. He's also capable of manipulating things easily and is very good at deception, his plans are still his own in this story and you'll just have to wait and see.

**Barranca: **The Scoobies reactions will come soon and as for seperating Azrael and Xander, that may or may not happen, haven't decided on it as of yet.


	9. Interlude: Gods Of Death In Sunnydale

Two men strode through the streets of Sunnydale as the sun slowly set.

The frist was a young man wearing a black, leather trenchcoat and fingerless gloves over a black, silk shirt and black jeans with heavy combat boots. A pair of silvered shades covered his eyes and a small silver chain hung around his neck. His long, black hair was tied in a neat ponytale that hung down his back to just below the ribs while his chin had a neatly groomed beard and mustache. His face was an almost albino pale though with aristocratic features that made him seem distinguished and a hint of wisdom. His size was slightly on the taller side, though not by much and his build was more like a swimmer or soccer player than any massive build.

His companion on the other hand was massive, over seven foot in height with a large, hooded cloak concealing most of his form save for the occasional glint of reflections of sunlight off concealed gold and a pair of fierce, crimson eyes. The visible fingertips were deeply tanned, but ended in a strange set of claws or talons that seemed strangely at odds with the humanity portrayed by his stance. A pair of sandals with similarly clawed feet were occasionally visible beneath the cloaks folds.

"Than," the second said in a low, gravely voice, "I really don't see why Az asked us to watch this place, I mean, I know the place is a hellmouth, but others are watching it."

"Not totally sure why myself," came the response, "Why couldn't you get So to do this, I mean, the only reason I came is because Hephestus and Aphrodite were having another spat and I really dislike getting caught between those two."

"Well, Sobek has been hiding out in his closet with Petsuchos guarding him since his trip to the land down under," came a slightly insightful tone from the larger of the pair, "And for some reason he starts crying and his pet tries to hide whenever they hear an Aussie accent."

The other gave his companion an odd look, "Well, while we're here how about we clear out some of the locals pest problems?"

The two paused in front of Willy's Bar with an eerie tandom glance at each other.

"After you," the one called Than stated with a half bow and a flourish.

"But of course," the larger one said before kicking in the bars door with an explosive crash that broke the door in half while almost folding the parts togather before they careened into the ar itself with enough force to nearly break through the heavier bar while scattering barstools, tables, and chairs like ten pins.

The two walked calmly through the destroyed entrance while a third figure whistled a jaunty tune he'd picked up from a game he'd been playing, a theme for some sort of angel with a missing wing.

The silver and black tunic the newcomer wore with a deep brown goatee and shoulder length hair smirked slightly.

"Thought I'd find you two here," came the cheerful voice.

"Ares," Than stated with a groan, "What are you doing here?"

"Really, Than," came the chuckle and an almost chiding tone, "A bit of violence is always my thing, especially a bar brawl, haven't had a good one for a few hours since Azrael found a few new drinking buddies."

The god of war paused for a moment before continuing in an almost inquisitive tone of voice, "How the hell he finds the people he hangs around with is something I'll never get, also how the hell he got the Iscariot Priest and the Nosferatu to go drinking is a mystery to everyone, Apollo is running a bet with Raijin over that particular question at the moment."

"Sure why not," the larger one groaned.

"Always up for a spot of violence," Ares responded in a cheerful tone, "Even brought the lighter myself this time!"

"Thanatos?" the large one asked in a shell shocked voice.

"Yeah, Anubis?" the other asked with a concerned look.

"My blood suddenly ran cold."

"Mine to, happens whenever that pyro gets ahold of something flamable."

"I think I'm scared."

Both slowly turned to watch the, once again whistling the same tune, war god walk between them and into the structure followed by a ghastly shriek by a demon, though the tone was garbled enough that they couldn't tell which breed.

"Well," Thanatos said to his Egyptian partner, "No sense letting him have all the fun."

"Agreed."

And the two proceeded into the bar**  
**

* * *

Willy was in a panic, something that looked human had walked into the bar and sat down before busting a beer bottle and using the remnants to pin one of the vampires hands to the bar before cheerfully anouncing that the injured vamp was paying for his drinks after standing one of the knocked over barstools back up. 

He was still frozen in place from when the door got blown inwards by two beings who he'd heard arguing outside after that before folloing their "friend" inside, the larger one seeming to bow nearly two feet before he could pass through the door.

Three of the larger demons seemed to pause a moment before charging the newcommers who were messing up their bar.

Thanatos smiled slightly before brushing back the collar of his hooded trenchcoat to reveal a hilt that was pulled on to reveal a bastard sword of a strange black metal with glowing runes that seemed to glow with an inner light as if lit by the fires of the abyss itself.

"Now shall we?" the Olympian God of Death declared with a truely evil smirk before lashing out with a strike that sang as it passed through the ooze scented air.

"Yes," came the grunted response from the Egyptian Guardian of Death as his pleasure was evident even without seeing his face, "Let's!"

The massive deity tossed aside his cloak to reveal an eleven foot tall frame with massive muscles and a jackals head on a semi-humanoid body with claws on his hands and feet. Leather belts interlaced with silver chains made up the majority of his clothing with golden amulets and bracers along with leg guards.

The egyptian grabbed the first vampire to come close enough with a hand that encompassed the demons chest before chucking him outside and into the light of the sun.

"Let Ahemait have your spirits!" he snarled as the jackle headed warrior charged into the fray directly.

"Oooh," Ares declared as he spotted something among the wreckage as the battle raged around him, "Matches!"

* * *

Buffy was staring in awe as screams flooded the streets while injured and dead demons were haphazardly tossed all over the streets and allys around Willys 

Finally two figures, Anubis and Thanatos, staggered into the streets as a cry of glee was heard from within.

"Whoa," Ares declared in an almost drunk tone as he staggered out along with a gout of smoke, "Fire fun."

"I wonder if Kerberos can let us hide out at his workshop for a while," Anubis asked his partner, "At least until Ares gets off his current streak of rampant pyromania."

"Nah, Volupta wiould kick us out," Thanatos stammered, "Dogboy won't cross her, especially after everything else between those two, and that is one wierd marriagne, Kerbie's been friends with her mother for a while since she was nice to him before the Big Boss got the furball fired and ended up dating the lass."

"Perhaps Fuijin can put us up, we can even blame Ares and Azrael for this since Az sent us here and Ares caused most of the actual destruction," Anubis mused, "And with Raijin running bets on Olympus, there ought to be room for us to crash with him for a while."

"Oooh," Ares stammered as the bar exploded, "Gaslines burn pretty!"

And with that the olympian god of war passed out as he teleported away.

"Somehow," the blond slayer mused, "I just know this will be blamed on me!"

* * *

**Firehedgehog:** Graci 

**mchael22:** The Brother part will be explained in more detail later on, it is comming, and there is a reason Azrael and Azazel are referred to as twins in this. But the main reason will be explained later on.

**Bobboky:** Thanks


	10. OC Interlude: The Christmas Special

Xander was getting really annoyed as he beheaded a trio of vampires with a swing of his scythe before backwinging up onto a display to avoid a rampaging creture of some odd type. 

Alucard was merrily trashing things with wild abandon as vampiric midgits in elf costumes swarmed around while a madly cackling necromancer in a santa costume cackled gleefully in a sleigh pulled by what looked like zombie reindeer.

The malls were in chaos as nine humans seemed to become some sort of furry monster with antlers.

"Werereindeer," Anubis muttered to himself as he evaded the herd of rabid looking creatures.

A chain of explosions ripped one with an eerily glowing nose to pieces while shards of silver scattered in all directions.

"Exploding coins?" the egyptian diety asked as Cerberus shrugged.

"Only silver I had on me," came the sheepish reply as Ares was pinned ot the ground with a snapped silver credit card and a flaming checkbook.

A chuckling, golden haired lady shot past on a motorcycle while unpacking a chainsaw that had apparently been grabbed out of Sears.

"You stole my baby!" a big, burly man screamed like a little girl while chasing the lunatic, "Give charly back his Harley!"

"At least it wasn't K-Mart this year," the man said while blubbering though taking a crowbar to one of the vamp-elves.

The stereo system suddenly started screeching something nearly incomprehensible.

"What the," Anubis stated in shock to the music, "Is that twisted Sisters?"

"Nope," thanatos moaned as he spun his sword while pointing to the still bike mounted lady messing with the speakers, "Just my twisted sister Eris!"

"Ah," came the jackal headed ones response before a loud crash followed by a lot of barking, "Was that the petstore?"

A swarm of small dogs swarmed past and into the fray with Cerberus chasing after while muttering about his daughter being the deaht of him.

"Yep," came the response from Azrael as he landed again, "She found the beagles."

The weredeer seemed to drop unconscious as Ares let out an ear splitting belch while messing with his trusty lighter and turned around to moon the necromancer in the Santa costume while moving the lighter behind him.

"Please tell me that lunatic didn't," Thanatos stammered.

"He did," Anubis responded with a groan as a gout of flame from the drunken pyros rear set the villain alight.

"Why do we even go shoping?" Azrael asked with a look of shock, "I mean it always ends in complete and total distater!"

"Honestly," Cerberus said as he nearly collapsed beside the trio as the last of the monsters finally bit the dust, "I really have no clue what so ever!"

"Puppies!" the pink clad toddler diety shouted in the distance as the barking started again.

"Not again!" the former guardian of Hades muttered to himself mixed with various types of curses and swearing under his breath in various languages, "How did Volupta talk me into taking the tot shoping on my own again?"

"Well..." Ares with a wide grin as he'd found some booze that he was attempting to ignite.

"Never mind," dog boy roared.

"You know, we never should have let Diony take that nut to Woodstock," Thanatos stated as the moltov cocktail slammed into the pile of vampire midgits while Anderson joined the fight with his bayonettes against the semi-recovered werereindeer.

"Agreed," Anubis responded.

"Merry Christmas everyone," Azrael muttered to himself as he tried to stop the rampant destruction around the mall.

* * *

**AN:** This is out of continuity, it doesn't actually happen in the story, but its a funny idea for a christmas special for the fic. Just play "Wreck the Malls" while reading it to get alot of the humor. This chapter didn't have a Beta for various reason so if anything is spotted, let me know.

* * *

**Barranca:** Well, she already did burn down a gym even if it was for a good reason.

**mchael22:** Well, the idea was more of a joke to start with and I had a few characters I wanted to introduce for later use. Anubis and Thanatos will be involved more later on in the actual story.

**Firehedgehog:** Everyone is a pyro to some extent, I think its a low level trait in all of humanity, its the crazy pyromaniacle tendancies that aren't.

**LiYinBlake:** Fixed it, my beta and I both missed it, I'm always glad to fix problems of that sort in what I write to make the fic better.

**bandgsecurtiyaw: **Thanks


End file.
